Uncharted Territories
by raptorvelociraptor
Summary: Even though her dear best friend had probably forgotten all about her, Wendy had an intuition that her life could handle being anything but ordinary and dull, even if monotony was threatening to swallow her existence at the moment. But she could have never foreseen such a remarkable trail of events that occurred. Nothing was ever commonplace with her, now, was it?
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: Even though her dear best friend had probably forgotten all about her, Wendy had an intuition that her life could handle being anything but ordinary and dull, even if monotony was threatening to swallow her existence at the moment. But she could have never foreseen such a remarkable trail of events that occurred. Nothing was ever commonplace with her, now, was it?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan or any of the characters associated with it.**

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She could not wrap her mind around it. It is an illusion or a dream. Yes. Surely, it cannot be anything else. Soon she will wake up to her mother's gentle prodding.

However, that did not happen.

And the notion of all this being a hallucination of her more than active imagination shrank as moments passed. She refused to let it bother her. Why was she worrying? She was here again. After losing hope to see this haven ever again, with all of its magic and mysteries, Neverland had called to her. The place that had fueled her ambitions, her passions and her desires since she was but a little naive girl.

She still thought that she was naive, but at the age of 21, Wendy Darling had vivid perceptions of what life really entailed.

One moment she was drifting off to sleep in the warm and snug bed in her room, safe and sound at her home, and the other, she was waking somewhere entirely else, but not by morning smells and chirrups. It was still night-time, you see.

She frowned in her sleep. When did her bed become so hard and who let the windows open? These cold winds would surely freeze her. She opened her eyes, then and the particular surroundings that met her eyes really had her frozen in her place, as this was definitely not how her room back home looked like.

Those vague recollections from her past came back to her with a multitude of torrents in so fierce a manner that she gasped back and struggled to find her footing. Was her mind playing tricks? How could it be so cruel? Had someone drugged her? She remembered her last meal. Ah...Mother was unlikely to do that. As minutes dragged by, her tired mind realized that she really was there. Just as she had been in her childhood.

It was indeed the _Jolly Roger_.

She tried to calm herself and deal with the situation at hand like an adult, as she was. Putting a cautious step ahead, as if it may disappear if she so much as moved, she took in her surroundings. When it did not 'disappear' as she had so foolishly thought, she explored a bit with gentle footsteps. She put her arms around herself to prevent from shivering in the cold wind.

Good Lord! She was barefoot and still in her nightgown.

Still cursing her luck she looked ahead. Yes it was Neverland alright.

Though it was probably midnight, she still could make out the landscape that serenaded the island and hear the soft ripples of the ocean. So she really was here.

But how?! What forces brought her here?

Was it Neverland..er.. magic?

She wondered that her theory might be rather far-fetched, but stopped dead when 'her own ability' came to her mind...which had shown signs of origin after she had left Neverland the first time around and since, had evolved magnanimously.

She had not told anyone about it at home for she feared her dear ones would probably frown at it, thinking her odd. For if they could not believe in fairy-tales and Neverland, there was no way they would take this positively.

Or maybe she was being too paranoid, overestimating their reactions.

She had tried, oh, how she had tried to tell them, but every time she started to say something, it was, as if, she'd run out of words or suddenly been shoved into an inner blind panic.

She could not make herself do it, not when she knew that her brothers did not exactly share any sort of ability. They, too, had been there with her, then why _only her?!_

It might be because they had forgotten about their adventures and passed them as a "wild fancy of their juvenile minds".

That's what kept her trap shut, she realized.

The fear of rejection.

As another gust of cold wind blew, she broke out of her reverie and tightened her arms.

A muffled noise from behind startled her, and she did what any normal lady faced with same situation would do.

Scream.

Hard.

Panic-stricken still, she recognized the familiar grandfatherly man who was gaping at her as if he had not seen something like her ever.

"Mr Smee?" She asked tentatively.

He looked bewildered.

"Who might ye be miss, an' wha' are ye doin' here?"

She gaped.

Did he not recognize her? But that cannot be. It's not as if they were meeting for the first time!

She was broken out of her reverie as more voices and clatters of feet approached them. Pirates, she realized looking at them. She vaguely remembered some of the faces from before, but the rest were fairly new ones. So pirates were still here...

Wendy tried not to think just why she always found herself in the worst of situation. Instead, she strained to decide the next course of action when her thoughts were AGAIN interrupted by a voice from behind all the men.

A deep, authoritative and...slightly annoyed (as it sounded at the moment) voice.

A voice that made her freeze in shock, for there was no way she could have mistaken it. She had not hoped to hear it for the rest of her existence.

"Smee?! Just what is going on here?"

And when the owner of said voice followed shortly thereafter, separating the stream of his crew, she had to mentally marvel at her strength that she did not faint. Instead her jaw dropped considerably low, her eyes going as wide as saucers.

There was no mistaking the tall and elegant form of Captain James Hook.

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**A/N:** This is my first story. No flames please! More chapters to come soon. Would love the feedback!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan or any of the characters associated with it.**

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She blinked rapidly and abnormally, thinking that he would vanish and stared when he did not. She concurred it was perfectly fine if her mind was suddenly muddled and not being able to function adequately, thus delaying her reactions. After all, seeing the man whom she had watched meet a most gruesome death, in flesh again, was enough to overwhelm anybody, was it not?

But how? Just h-how?! What sorcery was this? She thought he had died. Yet he was there.

He looked the same. Well, it was Neverland after all.

It appeared as if he had been roused from sleep. Long black tousled curls cascaded his head. The same striking features, high cheekbones, aristocratic nose, the menacing hook and his eyes...

Eyes blue as forgot-me-nots...

She was stunned into insensibility; more for the fact that there was not a sliver of repugnance within her as she acknowledged this development. Oddly, the sight of him did not bring anger inside her. Oh no. Far from that. It brought the guilt and shame; she had struggled with after she had matured through years. Guilt so intense, that tears threatened to well up in her eyes and unbidden memories flashed through her mind rapidly.

_Old, alone and done for...Old, alone and done for..._

She realized the meaning of those words late. Too late. As she grew older, her actions became more doubtful and dubious. And the words that she had chanted with such gusto soon became loathsome and cruel, as they were.

But she had been small and he had been evil. How many times had she consoled herself like that?

Evil. Such a strong word.

She scoffed internally. Good and Evil. The world was not divided into good and evil. It would have been so..so...uncomplicated. And life was complicated. She knew that now.

She recalled his vain struggles and attempts to survive that night and how he had seemed utterly resigned to his fate at the last moment.

The wretched crocodile.

And of course she HAD to be a part of such an abominable act. Hadn't she spoken those words with such...such..relish? Relish for his approaching death. For culmination of a life, nevertheless.

_A life!_

She blinked again to calm her outward appearance. It would not do to lose her composure at the moment.

She raised her head to see that the captain was regarding her with narrowed eyes. The crew were murmuring among themselves and looking at the scene with interest.

"Now, now, what do we have here?" He drawled mellifluously, obviously expecting an answer from her.

Mr. Smee suddenly..er.. squeaked.

"Tha's wha' I ask'd her too Cap'n, and she knows me name! I dunno how!" He started to say something else but a swift glare from the captain effectively silenced him.

But Wendy was not really paying attention. Forgetting where she was and who she was talking to, she whispered, as if in a trance- "Are you real?"

His head snapped back to hers and he took an unconscious step forward.

"I beg your pardon, Madam?" He frowned.

The use of the title did not register to her.

"You are here...you did not...I mean..." She trailed off. Her voice had not come out as a fearful squeak or an angry whisper as she had originally thought. No, it was almost the gushing excited whisper of wonder and awe.

And she noted with horror as he realized the same and quirked his eyebrow in surprise and curiosity.

"I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage. May I inquire as to your identity...young lady?" He asked rather shrewdly.

She had not changed so much, had she?

"Do you not recognize me?" She wondered why her words were laced with disappointment.

He searched her face, then, and it must have dawned on him just WHO she was, as his eyes widened imperceptibly.

"Wendy Darling," He stated incredulously. She heard gasps from the crew (at least from those who remembered her).

Rather stupidly, she wanted to nod and smile, but before she could act on her impulse, his expression turned stony, and his jaw hardened visibly.

And that was when fear chilled her insides and perhaps something else too...Was that hurt?

She waved it off as nothing. Why would she be hurt, anyways?

Wait...why_ was_ she hurt? It's not as if she expected him to be best pals with her.

Just because _she_ did not want him dead did not mean that he would feel the same way about her. Surely he wouldn't throw her off his ship, or would he? She was not an excellent swimmer really, average at best, maybe less than average, she suspected.

_But those mermaids.._.

Excellent swimmer or not, she did not fancy being thrown into the depths at the mercy of those vicious harpies, thankyouverymuch.

She realized she was rambling quite pathetically in her thoughts, and strained to pay attention to what was happening.

The pirates were staring at her up and down in a way that made her flush to the roots of her hair. She squirmed uncomfortably, gathering that she was still in her nightgown.

Hook must have sensed her discomfort as he gave that oh-so-familiar mocking smirk of his.

"Fancy seeing you again...Miss Darling. You have changed quite...incredibly as I see. It must have been years since we last met," And she knew from the look of his eyes that he too was remembering what had transpired all those years ago between them. She wanted to wipe that condescending smirk of his and maybe slap him and explain things. She knew not what things exactly, though.

Instead she remained quite and gazed at him calmly, trying not to show her fear among OTHER things that she did not want to acknowledge at the moment.

"I am curious as to why your _precious Pan_," He spat, "did not find it suitable to enjoy your pleasurable company and instead threw you so unceremoniously on my ship?"

"Peter?!" She finally uttered, looking baffled.

Oh, Peter. Her childhood friend. Her _forgetful_ friend. He had promised that he would visit her over spring. But of course, he had forgotten. She did not blame him, although it had hurt at first. She had missed him. His cocky attitude. His cheerful smile. Not a care in the world. He really had been unique and she had been absolutely fascinated with him when she was young... But things were different now...She felt a pang in her heart and a sudden desire to see him.

"Lost in the memories?" Hook's tone was vicious than before and she restrained a flinch.

"No," She said firmly, careful so that none of the despair, that she felt, could leek through her voice. "No, I did not meet Peter and it has been awhile since I last saw him."

Hook smiled maliciously.

"Forgotten you too, has he?"

She felt nauseous and wondered how she could feel compassion towards a man so...so...HORRIBLE!

"But that does not explain your presence here, Miss Darling, does it?"

She swallowed a maddening urge to scream at him and calmed herself.

"I do not know how I came here. I just...I was sleeping quite blissfully in my room..and then I was here...It does not make any sense. I thought I was dreaming...Then I saw Mr. Smee and...er...I...er...screamed."

She looked contrite at the end of her charade. Hook was staring at her with a glint in his eyes and she did not much like the calculated look. She prepared herself for the worst. Would he slit her throat with his hook? Or maybe he will make her walk the plank...again.

She groaned inwardly. But nothing came.

Instead he gruffly ordered his crew to go to sleep and 'not stand like gaping buffoons'.

"Smee, arrange for Miss Darling's stay in," He stumbled, surprisingly, "in my room. You can put a bed on the other side. Quickly!"

She watched numbly, thinking she had gone off the loop, as Smee hastily scrambled away to follow his Captain's orders. Did she hear right? Did he just say what she thought he said?

"You are not going...to..kill...me?"

Oh, smooth Wendy, smooth.

He chuckled darkly.

"Now why would I do that? It would be bad form to do_ that_ to a lady such as you. And I am a gentleman, am I not?"

She couldn't help but narrow her eyes.

"You are a pirate," She stated as if reminding herself of what he really was, "and you have got something up your sleeve which may benefit you." She added just because she wanted him to know that she wasn't so gullible. But she was grateful, nonetheless, that he had not killed her and even offered her to stay. She did not feel angry or indignant at the moment, just strangely resigned. Must be because she was so tired.

"And you have become quite an expert at deduction," He retorted coolly, not an emotion on his face. Just bored, detached arrogance. The git.

For a few awkward moments, they glared at each other. Well, now she was indignant! But he did not seem to be too perturbed, gazing at her as if he could not be bothered...as if she was a trivial thing. The vexatious stillness seemed to stretch for minutes. He broke the silence with clipped words.

"If you may follow me, I'd show you where you will sleep." He turned abruptly and started to walk away in long strides making her slightly jog behind her.

She had many questions to ask him including how he had managed to come out of that wretched crocodile's stomach unscathed...Instead she asked- "Um...about that..well..you said that...that I will sleep in...your room...er...I mean to say-"

He sensed her hesitation and stiffened visibly, replying tersely- "Oh, would you prefer to sleep with my crew? That can be arranged easily-"

"No!" She exclaimed. "But-"

"Rest assured, Miss Darling. I maybe a pirate, but I am not some lowly scum who would-"

"I know," Her eyes widened and she cut him off instinctively, and then coloured when he shot her a curious look. "I...did not mean to imply that."

She fidgeted slightly as he continued to look at her oddly for a second or two, but then shook his head and mumbled caustically, "Of course you did not."

She reddened again when he opened the door for her with a mocking- "After you, my lady."

Stepping inside the warm room, she restrained a sigh of pleasure. Majestic as always, she thought wryly, gazing all around the room. The elegant looking harpsichord lay at the far end, some ways opposite a polished work desk with chairs alongside. The fireplace at the adjacent wall looked so heavenly; she wanted to curl up beside it. Needless to say, she resisted that urge too and looked around to find two beds at an adequate distance.

The Queen sized one was of course his, and as she gazed at her relatively small bed, she hoped that it would feel as fluffy as it looked.

"If you are quite done marvelling over my quarters..."

She nodded, cursing inwardly, at easily getting flushed always.

"And are the arrangements up to your expectations?"

She nodded again. He smirked.

Why was she getting tongue-tied?! And now he is gloating.

"Then I might as well go to sleep from which I was so...ah...rudely interrupted. Good night, Miss Darling."

"Good night, indeed," She mumbled incredulously at his retreating form.

He really was horrid. Not giving into the temptation to huff, she flopped in her own bed, though not as gracefully as he had done. Despite its 'fluffiness', she tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position. She finally decided to sleep with her back to him.

Still, sleep evaded her. She sighed softly.

"Captain Hook?"

She heard an annoyed grunt, a long-suffering sigh from the other side and then a strained-

"Yes, Miss Darling?"

She bit her lip

"Thank You."

Silence...

Then

"You are welcome."

A smile twitched her lips before she could help it. Suddenly, she felt a bit light-headed and was lulled into sleep, before she could acknowledge the curious gaze of a certain captain.

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**A/N:** Thank you for the favourites and follows. A bigger chapter for you all. Hope you enjoy it. Reviews would be very welcome.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan or any of the characters associated with it.**

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Wendy woke up to the blazing rays of the sun through the window and distant yelling. Rubbing her eyes sleepily, she observed her surroundings.

Same as the previous night. So, it was not a stupid fancy of her mind, after all.

She glanced sideways towards the other bed, which was empty, with no traces of the occupant of the quarters. She sighed deciding to not get up from her own place and, to put it simply, sulk for a while.

What would become of her now when she was here in Neverland? Were her parents and brothers worrying and searching for her back home? Of course, they would be. Home, she thought with a deep pang of nostalgia for the familiar, and gave in to the temptation of burying her head in her hands. But only for a while. She drew back from her thoughts with a steely determination of not being an angst-filled teen. The days of such carefree bliss were past. And now she had to make the best of the situation.

...

And just how would she achieve that?

Ah, well that was worth pondering over now, was it not? Surely, Captain Hook would not expect her to be..converted..into a pirate, to be on his beloved ship.

I think not, she thought with a grimace. Hell would freeze over, before she would accept that. And no amount of coercions or...tortures would make her even consider such a notion, she thought with a resolve. Flung her in the oceans, alright!

Or maybe the crew would believe in the old stereotype of women being bad omen on a ship, and throw her off the ship anyways. She had never fancied herself dying in the water, and now, it seemed to be the forthcoming cause of her impending doom.

At least the blasted crocodile was not there, or so she thought. If Hook somehow survived the beast, surely he would have killed it?

The thought brought the memories of the infamous night back and she quickly muffled her head in the pillow to ease the flow of the gut-wrenching guilt that came with it. She sighed, head still in the pillow...and jumped suddenly when she heard a mocking voice around her.

"Good Morning, Miss Darling. Are you quite finished contemplating over life's meanings and delicacies? Such deep thinking, at such early an hour, might prove to be slightly hazardous for you, don't you think?"

She felt her cheeks flame as she saw Captain Hook casually ruffling through his desk.

How long was he here? And just how did she not hear him when he entered? Note to self, always be on your guard.

"Good Morning to you as well, Captain," She said, wisely refraining from retorting to the last part of his sentence.

"Indeed. I have had Smee prepare a bath for you in the room adjacent to this. It is safe, do not worry. Your privacy would remain intact. Appropriate clothing has been arranged for you in the wardrobe there," He motioned towards a corner and she observed a wooden cover, deep mahogany in colour.

She frowned.

Since WHEN did pirate ships start having women's clothing? Unless...unless...they were adorned by women who had graced this ship before...She tried not to show her disgust on her face and opened her mouth to ask for an explanation, when he cut her off, for he must have sensed her indignation.

"And, no, they have not been worn before."

"Then, how did you come by them?"

"That is for me to know, and you to guess," He answered back cryptically and busied himself again in search of something inside his desk.

She almost rolled her eyes. Almost.

Going back to the wardrobe, she rummaged through her "appropriate clothes", which she found to be surprisingly nice. They were plain, nothing too fancy, but instantly likeable. Picking a pale blue dress at random, she moved to go out muttering a word of gratitude to him, to which he nodded wordlessly, still immersed in his work.

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She emerged blissfully refreshed from her hot bath and entered the Captain's quarters again.

She had thoroughly washed her auburn tresses which had formed several knots since the previous night. Now, they freely flowed in delicate ringlets down her waist, slightly damp from the water.

She found him deeply engrossed in some text.

_Oh, somebody was really busy today._

She coughed.

"Oh, you have finished, have you? I would have ordered Smee to bring us dinner and not breakfast for us, with...promptness such as yours," He said, still not looking up, and marking something.

She wanted to hurl something at him.

He closed the book with a snap, put it in the drawer, finally looked up towards her...and stared for a few more seconds than necessary. He cleared his throat looking elsewhere when she raised an eyebrow and motioned for her to sit opposite him, while they started to eat their breakfast composed of eggs, bacon and toast.

They ate quietly and after finishing, she put down her fork to say some things that were on her mind.

"I am immensely grateful for your kind hospitality, Captain."

"You are welcome, Miss Darling."

She continued.

"And I also want to ask, not wanting to sound brusque, just why am I being subjected to such uncharacteristic kindness by you?"

There, she had said it.

"Why, you'd rather have me desert a lady in a time of need?" He smirked.

_Being smooth now, is he?_

"No, but it is clear you are hiding something. You are going to get benefited somehow. What is your agenda, really?" He was still smirking, a bit more malevolently now.

"You might be exaggerating things, Miss Darling, but perhaps, maybe not."

She leaned back and refrained from huffing. And, then it came to her.

"It's Peter, isn't it?" She asked in a small voice.

His face darkened.

"It is Peter... Everything is about Peter, for you," She wondered why her voice was filled with such anguish.

He stood and went towards the window, standing rigidly with his back to her. She kept sitting there for a few moments thinking. So, she would be use as bait? She fought the urge to pull her knees up and bury her head in them. It was infuriating and demeaning and plain disgusting to be used like this. And yet she could not find it in her to scream and shout and lash out at him. Was there no end to his thirst for revenge?

It was appalling for him to be so deeply immersed in his need for vengeance. It would poison him; make his insides hollow, until he was nothing more than a monster...

_If he wasn't one already..._

She closed her eyes...No...No, he was not one, at least not yet. And she did not think she could just watch him...anyone... reach to the point of no return. It unsettled her that she wanted him to be...be...what..at peace?

_He is not a pity project. No. Not a pity project._

Shaking her head, and not wanting him to sense her inner turmoil, she went to stand beside him, a reasonable distance away. He seemed to be in his own world.

"So, I was right. It is Peter."

He stiffened, only just realizing that she was standing beside him. His expression was cold just as his voice came out to be.

"I would have applauded earnestly if I could. You are to be congratulated."

Again with the sneering.

"Peter does not even know that I am here. He will not come. He does not even remember me, I believe," She said trying to bring out a flaw in the plan. Something. Anything.

"Rumours around the island, carefully and subtly spread would take care of that. And I am quite sure the brat will remember you when he hears your name."

"You have clearly thought this through, haven't you?"

"Indeed," He looked smug.

She could not help herself.

"And here, I had forgotten what a master manipulator you were."

"I will take that as a compliment."

"I can still escape, you know."

"And achieve that by swimming in the ocean, and getting clawed by the mermaids through the whole process?" He countered.

"Well, yes, there is that too," She conceded. He had not mentioned the crocodile. Apparently, this was the perfect time to ask. Or so she hoped.

"I wanted to ask you something," She said warily.

"Go ahead." He replied, raising his eyebrows.

She hesitated.

_Oh, get on with it already!_

"How...how did you survive?" Maintaining eye contact with him as she asked this seemed to be an impossible feat, so she averted her eyes towards the waves instead, which seemed to soothe her. However, she dared a look towards him when no answer came. His eyes were two chips of ice.

"Simple, I ripped the blasted beast from inside," His expression turned glazed as if reliving those moments again, but after a few seconds, he snapped himself to look at her.

"Mourning its loss, are you now?" He sneered again.

That stung.

"Far from that," She grumbled to herself.

"What was that, again?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all." It came too quickly. His eyes narrowed into slits.

"The beast got washed away to the island, and got devoured by the savages there." His lip curled up in disgust as if it was beyond his comprehension, how anyone could eat such scum.

Her jaw dropped a few inches.

"But...but that is atrocious! It should have been buried!"

"Buried?!" He snorted incredulously.

"Yes. No matter, how much of an enemy a person or even a creature is considered, he must always be buried after death," She said firmly.

"And the beast is, no doubt, grateful for your pity in the afterlife," He deadpanned.

"It is not pity!" She said a bit forcefully, "It is just...the right thing to do." She continued with a faraway look. "I am not mourning its loss, though. Does that make me bad?"

She mentally slapped herself when she realized what she had said unconsciously, and looked towards him, expecting biting derisiveness, but was surprised to find an inscrutable look directed towards her. She broke the gaze first trying hard to appear nonchalant.

"It is the least we can do...to show respect in death."

She felt her cheeks grow hot as he continued to regard her unblinkingly while fiddling with his hook.

"You are naive," He scoffed, but somehow it seemed halfhearted to her.

She shrugged.

"Oh, the noblest of souls to grace my ship with their presence! Shall I weep happy tears?" He taunted.

"I see you have not changed, Captain," She said coolly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Most certainly not, Miss Darling." He retorted nonchalantly.

A silence ensued in which she glared at nothing and cursed her fates for the umpteenth time. But she knew that continuous whining would hardly improve the situation. She just needed to keep her wits about her.

"I must, however emphasize on the fact that any escape plans being concocted in your glorious mind would not be appreciated and such impulsive actions, if initiated on your part, would lead to highly regrettable consequences. I implore you to not follow through them in a momentary lapse of judgement," He drawled in low tones.

"I understand, Captain," She said through gritted teeth, "Though do not expect me to subdue my will towards you or your esteemed crew like some helpless damsel. Now, may I be excused or do I not even have free reign over your ship during my affable imprisonment?"

He appeared more amused than ever.

"By all means."

Wendy had half a mind to slap him and wipe that condescending smirk off his face but she resisted and with a strained "Good day, Captain.", stormed outside to clear her head, not throwing him a backward glance.

* * *

Wendy would have stopped to marvel at her surroundings had she been less agitated.

_That man is insufferable!_

The crew went about their way though keeping a wary eye at her. A few less than appropriate glances unnerved her but she made an effort to not react visibly. At least they were not trying to strangle her outright, which led her to believe that they must have been warned by the Captain in some way. Feeling a vague sense of relief and gratitude towards him, despite their recent..er..disagreement, she pondered further.

Of course, she did feel afraid and threatened. She was on the Jolly Roger, and these were pirates, for heaven's sake. She could not trust them. She had to be on her guard all the times. She would not let him manipulate her just as he had done before.

She was at least prepared for that and would not fall for his trap again, however charming he might seem. She could not let those familiar feelings of guilt overwhelm her. He certainly did not need her pity...or compassion. No, that would only make her more vulnerable to him and she could not afford that.

During her charade, she did not see a figure creep behind her and jumped, caught unawares, when she heard her name being called.

Well, so much for being on guard always!

Putting a hand on her chest, she tried to calm her racing heart and recognized him.

"Mr. Smee! You do like to surprise me," She said dryly.

He looked mildly sheepish.

"P'don me, Miss Wendy. Didn' mean ter startle yeh."

"Never mind," She smiled, "I could not acknowledge you last night. Thank you for all you have done for me Mr Smee. It has been really helpful to me."

He flushed with pleasure.

"No matter, Miss Wendy. T'was an honour." She beamed. He really was considerate.

"So, how have you been?" She asked amiably.

He seemed slightly surprised that she was still talking to him, but recovered quickly.

"Oh same ol', Miss, same ol'. An' serving under the Cap'n has always bin great."

She was slightly taken aback by the amount of loyalty Smee seemed to have for the Captain. They must be having an accommodating professional relationship...er...except when the Captain was not biting Smee's head off.

"It's bin good talkin' ter yeh, Miss Wendy, but I mus' go. The Captain wouldn' be too happy, yeh see, if he sees I'm not doin' my duties."

"I understand, Mr. Smee." And with a (clumsy) attempt at a bow, he hurried off, leaving a bemused Wendy behind.

She shook her head, grinned, and continued her prowl on the deck.

Maybe, just maybe it was not as bad as it seemed.

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**A/N:** Another long chapter! Thanks for the views. Review, review, please review!


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan or any of the characters associated with it.**

* * *

It was hard to keep track of days as they passed, even if she had not been there before for a prolonged time. She doubted if monotony could exist in Neverland. So, she was not bored to death as she thought she would be.

She would wake up early in the morning and get freshen up, followed by breakfast, with the Captain. In fact, she ate all her meals in his company due to his 'insistence'. It was a good enough reason to be suspicious.

He had been nothing but gentlemanly, always courteous, though still rather stiff. His apparent politeness seemed rigid, almost aloof. She could sense the detachment behind his manners unlike before. And yet, this stoicism did not seem to drag out during their conversations. She had once detected, to her faint incredulity, genuine amusement and intrigue in his eyes. Wendy didn't quite know what to make of him. His mood swings were known to all who had the pleasure of his acquaintanceship.

Often, she would see Mr. Smee or other pirates, being subjected to the vitriol of his temper, even when he was being civil to her, which made her skittish and edgy. It must be a part of his scheme; she could not help but think sourly. It was all a scheme! She did pity Mr. Smee, though, who usually was on the brunt of his anger.

It must be her imagination, but she thought she had seen some strange...mannerisms being elicited from him lately. Maybe, it was her 'woman's intuition'...or some such trite.

Many-a-times, she had caught him staring at her with a curious expression, as if HE did not know what to make of her. And almost always, SHE had to be the one to look away from his piercing stares. His gaze was..very unnerving. It made her flustered and fidgety. The tingles running down her spine did not help shed any light on the cause of her unexpected jitters.

If she did not know any better, she would think that he seemed to be getting warmer towards her presence...or as warmer as one could expect Captain Hook to be.

She had been able to halt the deluge of befuddling thoughts and feelings this stirred up within her with great effort. And to ease the discomfiture of her mind, she ran away from him, avoided him like the plague...or tried to.

It almost seemed like he was aware of her agitation as he continued to seek her company. He did not needle her about why she evaded him. He did gloat, though, throwing several knowing stares and smirks whenever he could which made her blood boil.

He had, once, asked her about her life in London, and what she had been doing all those days. She was surprised, of course, by his earnest curiosity, but told him everything..er..almost everything. Her parents, her brothers and their education, even Aunt Millicent and her dismal attempts at finding 'appropriate suitors' for her. She was rambling at the time, and had flushed in horror at what she had blurted.

"Suitors?" He had frowned.

"Yes, well," She had replied sheepishly, "I am 21 now. Aunt Millicent considers it a proper age for marriage."

"You do not seem happy," Strangely, his face had become stoic again.

"Do I not?" She had smiled resignedly. "My parents have been extremely supportive. There is no pressure from their side, but it is obvious what is being expected of me. I am certain, they will be happy with my acquiescence."

"So, how have these...suitors...fared until now?" He had seemed to be frightfully curious.

She had crinkled her nose earning a chuckle from him.

"That bad?"

She had tried hard not to stare at him. His smile was...otherworldly.

Regaining her senses she had muttered- "Dreadful...I mean they are all from 'sophisticated and well-to-do' families..."

"But...?" He had urged.

"They are dull. Matthew did not approve of creativity and imagination. He seemed...pompous. I was on the verge of hitting my head on something nearest, solid and firm when he kept going on and on about himself. Not that I did not try to listen to his monologues, but him talking about his oh-so-fascinating tales of work for a couple of hours straight was getting awfully monotonous. I almost developed a migraine that day. And there was Charles, who turned out to be even more horrid. I do not know why aunt Millicent described him as 'suave and charming'. It was quite sickening really to listen to him jabber about some frippery, sappy nonsense. He treated me as if I was some silly school-girl. I once refrained from emptying the contents of my stomach at his disgusting saccharine way of 'professing his love for me'-"

Realizing that she had been rambling for quite some time, she had flushed a deep shade of scarlet and warily glanced at him. He had been smirking, his head cocked to one side, and his eyes glittering.

"Um...well...I seem to ramble sometimes..." She had offered weakly.

"I do seem to enjoy it," He had practically purred, making her flush deepen further for a different reason entirely.

Thus she had told him almost everything about herself (except her 'ability', the part which she carefully omitted from her preamble), her obsession for books, literature and history. He had been surprised but later had showed her his personal library.

She had been absolutely thrilled when she saw it, refraining with difficulty from skipping and squealing in delight. Instead, she had started ranting again, to his amusement, about his rare collections, that it was practically a haven, that how her brothers teased her about being a know-it-all who resembled a mad scientist when surrounded by books. He had said that indeed, he could see a resemblance.

He had chuckled again, when she had stared at him, unimpressed. It was distracting and it caused goose bumps to rise on her skin, but the queerest thing was that she had wanted to hear that curious sound, that deep rumble emanating from his chest again.

She had kicked herself in her thoughts, then. That was not the path, she wanted to pursue. _No_. She had to resist the temptation.

_Temptation?!_

There was no temptation! That would mean that she had...brief stirrings...inside herself, which was absurd. Absolutely preposterous. Banish the thought.

She had to desist from thinking so inappropriately, she resolved as she went to sleep that night, still remembering the feel of his hand at the small of her back as he ushered her out of his library, saying that it was late and they had better call it a night.

Sleep was definitely not going to be easy, she thought dejectedly, and buried her head in the pillow muffling a groan of agitation.

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**A/N:** I do apologize for the late update. I had tests! Very grateful for the reviews and look forward to more.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan or any of the characters associated with it.**

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It was after a few days that she found herself on the deck interacting casually with some of the pirates. Quite peculiarly, they had grown accustomed to her presence, knowing that the Captain was civil enough to her. However they were careful to mind themselves around her, as most probably the Captain had asked them to.

Or perhaps this was all part of the ploy of the sinister and malevolent James Hook. Involving his crew to throw her off-balance. She sniffed. He might believe he could fool and manipulate her again. Let him think just that. She would show him. She saw right through his smug deceiving facade and she would not be-

_You have gone too paranoid._

_._

_._

_._

Had she?

It absolutely bewildered her that she did not know what to believe anymore. These conjectures of misgivings and wariness reared their head every time he did something out of character...assuming the preconceptions she already had about his character...what she had believed him to be since she was a girl. There was no need to clarify who 'he' was.

But he had not changed, had he? No. She was barmy if she thought he had _changed. _

Yet sometimes...sometimes. The way he looked at her. She did not recall him looking at her like that ever.

Well, of course he would not have spared her a glance like _that_ before. She had been a child! What if...Did he...Was his sudden attention because of..well...

She reddened when she thought of _that_. Utterly ludicrous. He could not find her...appealing. She could stomach that he might find her intriguing...to an extent and for a while, but appealing? Well, no. For all she knew, he would try to dispose her off when his 'interest' faded or when he got bored of her presence.

That was when paranoia set in. Every odd, baffling action seemed suspicious. And her scepticism escalated as said 'actions' continued to occur. One would have thought that her distrust would only make him seem odious in her eyes.

Well, you see, it was anything but that.

To her incredulity, she found herself reacting to his...supposed advances...and not in a negative way. It was thoroughly exasperating that in his absence she would find a thousand distasteful traits about him and in his company every revolting attribute would be forgotten and she would be left as a nervous, blubbering mess of worthless sentiments.

For now, she was trying to take everything in stride. Lord help her if things go awry.

Hesitating only for a bit, she listened to what the crew had to say. They told her about their adventures from before they knew her. Wendy, despite being reserved at first, lapped up the knowledge she came across with and found it frightfully fascinating. Not that she was going to admit that. They also told her about the works they participated in as a crew.

She was kept away from the work, another anomaly. She only took care of the Captain's log which he had given her the permission to engage with.

It was with deep relish that she had noted his reaction when some of his crew had seen fit to converse with her. He had pursed his lips, glaring at them, until they had nervously shrunken away from her. Even if the whole business had been rather puzzling, it gave her the idea that not everything was in his control, in accordance with his perfectly laid plans. There were inconsistencies. Anything that agitated him was good for her, was it not?

When she was not doing anything, she was found in the library pouring over the books like a loyal worshipper. Suffice it to say, she was found in the library most of the time. That is where the Captain found her in the morning.

"A bit too early for your reading bouts, Miss Darling, don't you think?"

She gave a start, the motion enabling the book she was reading, to slip from her hands.

He smirked.

She froze when she turned to berate him, the admonishment lost on her lips. He looked...strikingly impressive in his red coat and hat. She was all too familiar with those robes, but couldn't for the life of her, comprehend why this time it brought nervous flutters in her stomach. She realized she could have stayed all day there marvelling over his tall and elegant form, but averted her eyes, blushing profusely, when he started regarding her with amused perplexity.

"It is never too early for my 'reading bouts' as you so elegantly put it. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of our company this fine morning, Captain?"

She tried to busy herself by picking up the fallen book and finding the page she had left off.

"I am going ashore today, alone, to attend a matter of urgency which demands my attention."

She stood up then and looked at him, frowning.

"Not to sound intruding, but what might this matter of urgency be?"

"Just some business with the mermaids," He waved off, evasively.

_Mermaids were nefarious._

"Not dangerous, I hope...?" It did not came out as casual as she had intended it to be.

His eyebrows twitched in surprise and she could have sworn, she had seen a half-smile about to bloom on his face, before he schooled his expression quickly.

"Why, thank you for your concern, Miss Darling, but I assure I will be perfectly alright."

His eyes really were entrancing...And they seemed to be...getting rather closer now...

Wait...closer?

She blinked repeatedly, acknowledging his unsettling proximity, and lowered her eyes slightly.

"It...it was not concern...just...you know..." She dared a glance upwards to see his head cocked sideways in amusement.

"Hmm...?" He quirked an eyebrow.

She bit her lip.

His eyes followed the movement.

**_DID HE JUST...?_**

He drew back suddenly, seeming to remember himself, and...stared at her.

Just when she was starting to fidget, he cleared his throat.

"I will return till the evening. Until then, Miss Darling," And with a well-flourished bow, he vanished, leaving her to chastise herself about the already broken resolve of trying not to be so vulnerable around him.

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**A/N:** The feedback almost made me weep! Do leave reviews. You know as well as I how much it means when one gets positive response.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan or any of the characters associated with it.**

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Wendy flipped the book; she had been reading and looked at it smugly, having just finished it after long hours of battling with dwindling concentration. Her smile froze.

_What to do now?_

She walked aimlessly around, her jumbled thoughts getting more entangled, as she tried hard not to claw her hair out of frustration and boredom.

She was irate with herself, or at least her logical side was. It was the best opportunity that she could ever get, with the Captain temporarily away from the ship, and she was reading and desperately trying to find any other entertaining means. She could escape by the rowboat; go to Peter, and then find a way to get back to London. It was convenient that the crew had gone to sleep. All the possibilities flashed through her mind quickly. She just had to be extra sneaky. They would not even guess what had happened until she was already gone.

Yet something inside her was resisting. Something which did not want her to leave yet. Something which was gnawing her insides in such vehemence that she could not help but consider possible surrender. And she was infuriated to notice that this 'something' was winning.

She slammed the door of his quarters, (where she slept too) as she entered them and paced and paced and paced some more. Her gut twisted as she noted that it was past midnight now. Her insides clenched with worry as she paced her room up and down. It was past midnight and HE HAD NOT RETURNED YET!

He had said that he would be back by evening. What in the name of the devil was keeping him?!

Why was she worrying anyway? He had gone to the mermaids, had he not? No doubt, to 'tell' them that she, Wendy, was indeed in Neverland, knowing that Peter talked to them. Such pettiness. And here she was _worrying_ about him getting drowned or something much worse. If Wendy had been a vengeful soul, she would have even hoped of it. But she wasn't, so she didn't.

When she had asked Mr. Smee why the Captain was not back, he had waved off her 'concern' with a jovial smile.

"Yeh know, how he is, Miss Wendy. Mus' be explorin' the island for all we know. 's nothin' new, don' worry," He had said, not noticing her sceptical stare.

Wendy was not reassured. Not one bit.

The desolate feeling kept gnawing her. She did not want this! She wanted him back this instant and rid herself off the maddening distress that kept sprouting up whenever she tried to squash it.

When her legs started aching with the effort of her restless pacing, she half-heartedly decided to retire to her bed, and tried to go to sleep, tossing and turning, when it evaded her. Glancing at his empty bed, she felt her frustration building and snarled. Just when she was about to throw off her pillow, she heard a muffled noise outside.

Getting up from her place haphazardly, she raced towards the door and wrenched it open. There was faint moonlight, yet she had trouble seeing, so she walked forward with uncertain footsteps. As she bent around the corner, she saw the silhouette of Captain Hook leaning towards the mast.

She had not realized how worried she had been until she saw him and her shoulders sagged back with a sigh. But the relief was short lived and anger replaced it.

"Where have you been blundering about? Have you any idea about the time! Absolutely reckless! I was so..." Her fierce whisper trailed off as she actually saw him.

His posture was slumped back; face pale, brows knitted together in a mixture of confusion and pain. His coat was slashed from the front and she watched, horrified, as blood continued to pool through his shirt.

"You are hurt!"

Quickly, she threw his arms around her shoulders and carried him back to the room with a good amount of struggle. She was surprised when he did not resist and let her carry him thus towards his own bed.. Must be too weak...

_Not a good sign_.

He let her shrug off his velvet coat, but swatted her arms and glared at her when she tried to do the same with his shirt.

"Oh no you don't! Let me see the wound!" She glared back.

"Just... a cut," He wheezed through gritted teeth.

"Let me check, nonetheless," She snapped and before he could open his mouth, ripped off his shirt and stared. Lacerations and gashes greeted her. Brutal. Quite brutal.

"You call that a cut!" She seemed to regret it, when he winced at her snarl.

"Oh, I'm sorry! Let me just..." She scurried to the bathroom to get a pot of water, her hands trembling with trepidation. Her previous worries were nothing compared to this. This...this was total chaos. She admonished herself. She had to keep a calm head. Stress could wait.

When she appeared in the doorway, he was groaning and clenching his sheets. She hurried to his side and proceeded to wash the wound, squirming uncomfortably seeing the blood, but she was trying her best. He was grimacing and clenching his teeth.

"Call...Call S-"

"Stop talking," She gently hushed him, concentrated in her work.

She sighed with relief when the wound was clean. It was not too deep but the blood kept coming so she applied pressure. He hissed again and she glanced concernedly at him.

Beads of sweat were running down his face and his eyes were closed. He seemed to be fighting consciousness. Belatedly she realized that he had been trying to tell her to call Smee when she had quieted him. But it did not matter now. She could deal with this. It was bizarre that the idea had not come to her mind before.

She was cognizant of an eerie feeling inside her, as if something dormant was getting triggered, and the thrumming in her veins increased. Later she would say that it was an impulse which made her do what she did.

She pressed her hands to his wound, and focussed with all her might. Gradually his wound started to knit by itself. She could feel the energy draining out from her and reaching out to him.

Her energy.

In minutes, his wound had healed. Not even a scar was visible, just his blood which was beginning to dry up. She had done it.

She felt exhausted, very much weary suddenly and collapsed at the foot of the bed, feeling a fierce headache coming and took deep breaths to collect her bearings. Through the corner of her eyes, she observed that he had fallen unconscious.

If there was a third party present amidst them, she thought, he, most probably, would have scrambled away after accusing her of witchcraft or some such tosh. She dreaded how the Captain would take the news of what 'she was capable of doing'. It had been necessary, had it not? Seeing him injured like that had shaken her nerves quite thoroughly. She did not know what had taken over her, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

To her profound relief, she discovered some of her strength returning, after a few struggling minutes in which she had heaved and convulsed.

It was after a good ten minutes when he arose, bewildered and dazed.

"Welcome to the land of the living," She greeted him, congratulating herself inwardly for being so composed.

He blinked and stared at her, then stared at his chest.

"How...how did you...do it?" Shock and incredulity reflected on his face.

She did not judge him. After all, waking up to find oneself unblemished when one had been a bloody mess before getting knocked out could be quite...unsettling. She would have found the situation quite comical, if it was not so serious.

She observed his bare chest curiously. He was quite...toned, nothing too beefy or flaunting, but so very masculine, not that she had actually seen any man this way before. There were scars, yes, but if she was to be believed, it did not make him hideous at all, quite the opposite, in fact. It was very...interesting. Interesting, being the only decent adjective she wanted to admit. Anything else, her traitorous mind was formulating, would be considered inappropriate and scandalous, surely.

She had almost finished her scrutiny when she noticed it, the mark on his left arm. She could not believe that she had missed it. But she had seen it before somewhere! She drilled her mind for some information as the mark continued to taunt her with familiarity. It couldn't be...

"I understand your fascination with my exposed countenance but I would prefer if you would pay attention to me, Miss Darling."

She coloured and averted her eyes quickly, her analysis forgotten.

"So, where were we? Ah, yes. Last thing I remember, I had an angry slash down here on my chest, which was agonizing, believe me. Now, however..." He trailed off looking at her expectantly and with a controlled bit of astonishment.

"I...well...I..."

"Were you always so enigmatic? He mused with a curious tilt in his tone, "Perhaps, I underestimated. Now then, Miss Darling, wouldn't you like to tell me your tale?"

She stared.

"You are suspicious again," He observed.

"You sound far too genuine, sir. You would forgive me if I find that a bit...unsettling."

His eyes brimmed with amusement.

"Come now. I am almost in on the secret. Would it really matter if you confide in me about your predicament?"

She hesitated. He was...right. He did deserve to know it. She had been the one to involve him in this by treating his injuries, not that she regretted doing so. It did not matter how much she wanted to neglect it, but the recesses of her being had betrayed to suffer such deep affliction when he had been in torment.

"It started when I got back home from my first trip here," She began abruptly, "It might seem comical, but I actually...broke a toenail. It really was excruciating. Nonetheless, I just knew what to do. I had instincts. I had been able to control it but i was inexperienced. It...it drained my energy. Mother went spare with worry when I slept through the whole day, exhausted-"

"So, that is why you look so pale. Forgive me. Your story can wait. You need rest-"

"No, I feel perfectly fine," She reassured him, pleased at his concern.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes," She said, exasperated, "You see, it has probably strengthened since I have grown. I...I did not really know that I could actually heal other people too until today. I never even tried it on myself since the first time. I was...uneasy, very apprehensive."

"You never told _anyone_?" He frowned.

She shook her head.

"I did not want to be seen as someone unnatural."

"Unnatural," He repeated rolling his eyes, "Such absurdity. I might believe that you are silly, inane-"

"I am not silly! Or inane-"

"-Or even frivolous, but not unnatural."

She harrumphed.

"If that was an attempt at comfort, sir, then it was horrible."

"I was merely stating facts. Why would I comfort you? You tore my shirt."

Blood rushed to her face. She had been trying to not get distracted by his unclad form but he just had to direct her attention towards it again. Why couldn't he just get decent? No sense of propriety whatsoever.

"It was shredded before I laid a hand on it. Even so, you were being slow. I had to do what the situation demanded," She defended herself.

"Slow, was I?" He enquired silkily, moving forward to perch directly in front of her.

She gulped.

"You need to go and clean yourself," She said staring at a spot behind his shoulder, "I...I will try to put some order in here. Everything is in disarray."

He halted her flimsy attempt of scampering away by grabbing her wrist and making her tumble back.

"Why did you do it?"

"I beg your pardon?" She asked, baffled.

"Why did you treat my injuries? You could have called Smee," He looked at her shrewdly.

She inhaled sharply.

"I told you, it was an instinct. I felt compelled to do so," She broke their gaze and turned away. She did not want to admit it to him! She did not- "I could not...see you suffering. I just forgot about Mr. Smee."

The grip on her wrist slackened.

"You could have run away while I was indisposed," He frowned to himself.

"You seem to want to get rid of me," She replied, stung.

"No, I was...curious that you did not grab the first opportunity to escape from this 'affable imprisonment', as you called it."

"You think I could leave you like that? I am sorry; do you expect to find cold-bloodedness in every creature you meet? She asked frostily.

His face was inscrutable.

"What were you doing anyway that you arrived in such a state?"

He grimaced, then.

"Evil mermaids."

As if that explains anything.

"I wonder why some travesty has not befallen to permanently dismantle your ship. Your crew sleeps like the dead," She said dryly.

He snorted.

"And why were you not sleeping?"

Did he really have to force it out of her mouth?

"I could not sleep. I was anxious," She said shortly, red creeping on her neck.

He quirked a brow.

"Do you feel any pain?"

He narrowed his eyes at the sudden change of subject.

"Pain? Yes, I do-"

"You do? Why did you not tell me before?" She got up from her place.

"It is just a dull throb compared to the previous agony. It will subside."

"You have lost blood too!" She continued fussing, "Do you feel weak? You should sleep...Um..no! First go clean yourself. You look like a mess,"

"Miss Darling-"

"This place is in shambles. I will have to just...You are wasting time just sitting there. It's late already!"

"Very well, I am going," He grumbled while getting up and rummaging his closet, "Desist your inane chatter."

He was just at the door when she called him back.

"I almost forgot, you have not eaten anything-"

"I will sneak something from the kitchens on my way," He said.

She could not help a snort.

"The Captain sneaking food on his own ship? Seems a bit unheard of."

"I must adapt," He replied. There was a soft timbre added to his tone, she had not heard before and a strange twinkle in his eyes as he stood in the doorway appraising her, "By the way, my sincere gratitude for your...fuss. It was most uncommon and refreshing," He winked at her and disappeared leaving her flustered.

She gathered her wits quickly and cleared up the clatter, changing the stained sheets and covers and putting them away for washing. She changed her nightclothes too which were smudged with sprays of blood.

Sighing in relief, she noted that the room did not look like something had been slaughtered in it anymore. She had an unsure moment when she did not know if to wait for him. She decided to retire to bed. She was drowsy, anyway.

The room was dark when she awoke by a slight noise by her side.

"Cap'n?" She slurred, disoriented.

"Hush. Go back to sleep. I did not mean to startle you," He said softly and pushed a stray curl away from her face while tucking her.

He was _tucking_ her.

Her muddled brain was having trouble comprehending anything at the moment. Perhaps she was just in a good dream. Nevertheless, she did what he said and lost herself in the arms of Morpheus.

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**A/N:** My apologies for the tardiness of this update, what with the festivals and celebrations keeping me busy. I hope you like the chapter. I don't know, I am not entirely happy about it. But please, do leave reviews.


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